The Fae Fortune
by TheHouseKey
Summary: A girl at St. Bartleby's! Preposterous! But she's there, and she seems to be part of an elaborate and strange bloodline...That's somehow connected to the Fowls'. Before Opal Deception Rated just to be safe.
1. Prologue

**Title:** The Fae Fortune  
**Chapter Title:** Prologue  
**Summary: **A girl at St. Bartleby's! Preposterous! But she's there, and she seems to be part of an elaborate and strange bloodline...That's somehow connected to the Fowls'.

_Ennis, Ireland, 1890_

Fergus Donovan was over the moon. In rage, not jubilation. He'd been gone on a business trip for three months to the mainland. Three months! Eight months after he returned, his wife bore a male child. Normally, he'd be elated. He would have loved an heir to the Donovan name, but Fergus wasn't stupid. He listened to the doctor's whispering. The boy couldn't have been his at all. He knew his wife Maureen had had an affair while he was gone.

Now he was forced to house the bastard. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it! His pride and dignity could only be held up for so long. The Donovans were notorious for their light hair; blonde, bright red, even light brown. The boy had raven black. He came out with a tuft of pitch black hair. Fergus wouldn't care for him. He might've only married Maureen because they were promised, but marriage was sacred, and what she did was betrayal.

The small village of Ennis had yet to hear the news about the baby boy. The new Donovan, they'd say. Fergus would have none of it. He had a plan. There was an old village mystic that he had to visit. She was a short old woman, and did not come out during the day. Fergus looked forward to her scheme. He didn't know the true extent of it, but all he knew was that he had to bring the boy to her, and she would help him.

As soon as the doctor left, he made sure Maureen felt nice and comfortable, as she drifted off into the sleep of the exhausted. In the dark of the night, he took the boy, wrapped in blankets. He wandered the forest, and searched out the hut in which the old hag dwelt. The trees were ancient, and a magic hum surrounded him as he went deeper. Crickets chirped and the moonlight shone with a surreal brilliance.

When he found the woman's living space, he was not surprised. It was a small, decrepit cave with oak trees planted along the entrance, almost like a gate. The line of oak trees did not end until the minute river turned a corner around the trees. The river ran lazily along its bed, and the trees stood like guards. Starlight shone through their leaves, and the water of the river looked like spun silver.

Fergus felt his heartbeat quicken as he stepped through the trees. He didn't have much time before his wife awoke. He felt along his way through the cave walls. The rock was damp and cratered. "You there, Miz Willow?" he asked tentatively in the dark. A moment of silence answered him as his echo faded.

"Are you the Donovan man?" a scratchy voice asked. It sounded tired and old.

"Yes, ma'am." He made sure his tone was obedient. He stayed close to the entrance for the small bit of light he could retain.

He vaguely saw a figure move towards him. It was short and round, and seemed to be holding something. "Take this baby home with you. Her name is Aeryn. Do not change it. She will always be slight in stature, and will not have the same temperament as human infants. Never give her foxglove, in any form, and do not baptize her. Born of a tryst between a Lower Elements Police officer and a merrow, this girl is not wanted in the her own world. I will find a home for this boy." She continued to instruct Fergus on how to care for Aeryn. Finally, when she had finished, she handed him a small, golden book.

"Do not read it. Do not open it. Hide it from the outside world, and when Aeryn is finished teething, make it a necklace for her, and tell her to never, _ever_, take it off. She will understand it perfectly, though you do not."

Fergus nodded his head, and tried to remember everything the woman was saying. It was obvious she was a bit of a loon, he knew, but he'd make Maureen see how much anguish goes into raising a child who is not your own. Born of a merrow and Lower Elements Police officer...what was a Lower Elements Police officer? And a merrow? Sure, he'd heard of them, but they couldn't be real. No, this poor orphan girl was just laid somewhere, and Miz Willow just happened to find her.

It hurt him that he could not baptize the girl. Fergus was a rigid Catholic, and if Aeryn was going to be his responsibility, he didn't want her going to hell. His shoulders sagged as a tendril of regret came to him. Maybe giving the boy away wasn't quite right. Maybe raising a his wife's child would be a learning experience.

The thoughts vanished as soon as they came. Fergus was more emboldened than ever to make the switch. He knew he had to trust Miz Willow completely in order for this to work. When she finished, she handed the girl to him. "Before she enters your house, make sure you permit her. It could be, 'Welcome home,' or something, but anything! Now go. Your wife stirs."

Fergus ran out of the cave, leaving the boy on the ground. He hadn't even been christened a name, yet. Fergus was confident that Miz Willow would take care of that. The forest wasn't nearly as dark as before, but he didn't stop to ponder that. He returned home, said "Aeryn, you are to live here," and replaced her in the boy's bassinet. Maureen had woken, but was still slightly groggy.

"Fergus," she moaned. "Where's my baby?"

"Right here, aghra." He placed special emphasis on _aghra_, feeling satisfaction at her apparent guilt. He handed the little girl to her. Maureen held the baby for a moment. She became wide awake and sat up.

"This isn't my baby boy, Fergus," she started. Her eyes took on a wild look as she searched the room for her son.

"Boy? No, Maureen, darling. We had a girl, you see? We agreed that her name would be Aeryn."


	2. The Wanderer

**Title:** The Fae Fortune  
**Chapter Title:** The Wanderer  
**Summary: **A girl at St. Bartleby's! Preposterous! But she's there, and she seems to be part of an elaborate and strange bloodline...That's somehow connected to the Fowls'.

_Boonville, MO, USA, Present Day_

Walking the dusty streets of Boonville, Farren Rhian Kilburn was looking for a job. Fay, as most called her, was an orphan, and she was allowed to walk the streets. Fay didn't really want to work, but upon turning fifteen, the only thing that was required of her was to help the orphanage in any way she could. She remembered never even being looked at for foster homes, and she was the universal Big Sister at Helping Hands Orphanage.

Fay was a mutt of several different heritages. Her mother had been a Cherokee, as pure as was possible in these modern days. Her father was a whole slew of other things, such as Irish, Italian, Spanish, and German. For Fay, the darker genes won out.

Her hair was slightly waved and dark auburn. Her eyes were the color of ground coffee, and her face was an arrangement of angles behind a pixie nose. Her eyes were almond shaped and somewhat slanted, giving her the look of round-the-clock suspicion. Her mouth was thin and almost fiercely pulled across her face. Her hands were calloused from chores at the orphanage, and her skin was the tone of the Native American. Fay had braided her hair in the morning, and stray tendrils were becoming loose, and hanging in her face by midday.

She had belonged to the orphanage since the age of four, when her house had a gas explosion, and her parents hadn't survived. Fay had been at her friend's house at the time, and was immediately taken to Helping Hands. Fay didn't know why she hadn't gone with her other family. She'd never asked. The orphanage was good to her, and she did whatever she could for them.

As she approached the old building that was Helping Hands, she saw a very expensive looking car in the parking lot. None of the employees could afford to drive such a car, and Fay's shoulders sagged. One of her little ones were leaving her. She prayed they would go to a good home.

Upon entering, the patroness greeted her with a exuberant hug. "Fay, darling, wonderful news!" she cried. She held Fay's face in her hands as her eyes threatened to tear.

"I know, Mrs. Merriwhether. One of the children is going to be adopted," she said lightly. She hid her grief as best she could.

"That's right. Someone _is_ going to be adopted. These people want to adopt _you_. They even asked for you by name!" She looked so giddy and happy, this sixty year old woman. She hugged Fay, again. "You're going to have a proper family for once, child!"

Fay was speechless. Normally, permanent parents weren't looking for a child that could slip away in three years. They didn't want a teenager already hardened from a life in the streets.

Before she knew what was happening, Mrs. Merriwhether had dragged Fay into the meeting room where her future parents were waiting.

The man was large and muscled, and the woman was dainty and tall. He was bald and had an earring of diamond. The woman had platinum blonde hair pulled back severely away from her face in a high bun. She wore little make-up, and a respectable dress suit in beige. The man had a white button down and ironed slacks. Fay didn't like the way their shoes shined.

"Meet Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Fay."

The two of them smiled, and Fay immediately determined that she didn't like them.

"We hope you'll come to love us, Farren. We're very glad to meet you." Mrs. Smith said this, in a soft, cultured voice that reeked of money. She had an odd accent that spoke of a foreign country.

Fay kept a mental list of why she didn't like them. Their shoes shined unnaturally, that was one. The woman had just called her Farren, that was the second. She took a look at Mrs. Merriwhether, and, trying not to disappoint her, Fay had a smile so forced it rivaled the Smiths'.

Mrs. Merriwhether burst out in happy tears as she hugged Fay. "You're sure you'll keep her?" she asked between sobs.

"Of course, we want Farren, Mrs. Merriwhether. We've always wanted a daughter." The man spoke this time, and he had the same accent. Sincerity _seemed_ to flow from his words, but Fay heard the underlying impatience. As if they had better things to do.

Fay put on a happy face. "Mr. Smith, please, call me Fay," she requested with icy politeness. Before he could respond, Fay inquired as to where their accent originated from.

"We live in Monaghan, Ireland," Mrs. Smith supplied. "We'd like to take you back there with us."

Now _that_ sounded good to Fay. She figured she could put up with these phonies, if only to get a glimpse of the Emerald Isle. It all sounded so magical to her. Normal life had been binding, any way. Now she'd probably have a castle, pets, and mysterious forests with glittering water holes and beautiful flowers...

Fay was brought with the Smiths that very day. She packed up what little possessions she had and did not speak to the Smiths unless they asked her any questions. They asked her very few questions, and those were about what she remembered from her parents. The plane ride was excellent for Fay, and she realized that she hoped to do it, again. They entered the airport the next day in Dublin, Ireland.

Instead of the shiny sports car that had awaited her at the orphanage, Fay saw a beat-up utility van. She mentally shrugged and didn't question. She was in a different country, for what more could she ask? As they approached the car, Mrs. Smith opened the back and looked expectantly at Fay. She understood and sat down in the back.

After a few phone calls and a few stops, the Smiths were behaving very oddly. They were happy, jovial, and didn't even notice Fay in the back of the van. Mr. Smith bought a bottle of wine from a store, and continued driving until they passed a sign that read Welcome to County Wicklow.

Fay had found a map in the back of the van, and read it quickly. Soon, she became confused. Monaghan was north of Dublin, why were they traveling south? Mrs. Smith stole a glance behind her and noticed what Fay was holding, and her expression. With agility that seemed impossible for the leggy woman, she climbed to the back and forced a towel over Fay's mouth. Before Fay was able to fight back, blackness surrounded her, and she couldn't fight for consciousness as she slipped away.


End file.
